


Dial Down

by HappyLeech



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:45:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4755386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyLeech/pseuds/HappyLeech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He may not remember, but he knows his task-<br/>Kill the others<br/>Save his daughter.<br/>--<br/>Executioner DLC fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dial Down

He can't remember.

He can't remember how he got there.

Not his name, not his job, nothing.

_{But he does remember this:_

_A woman in a slick black suit, smiling at him, leaning over him._

_He can't remember her face, but her smile is all teeth and something about her worries him. }_

_{He remembers this:_

_“To save your daughter, you need to kill the minds trapped in STEM. Do you understand?”}_

He jolts.

The memory is the only think he can recall, all he can think of as he looks down to his hands. 

He picks up his hammer, not realizing the distorted view around him is more than the product of a tired mind.

How had he forgotten his daughter? Why can't he remember his wife?

He grumbles, makes to complain, but nothing more than a rattling noise comes out.

He reaches up, confused at first, then frantic.

This is not him! He had a face, a mouth and eyes and hair, not metal and barbs!

**‘Calm down.’**

A cool voice echoes in his head, bouncing off the metal. There’s something about the voice, something familiar and almost trustworthy...

Letting go of the knobs on the front of his head _-a safe-_ he tilts his head to the side and listens.

**‘This is only temporary, a loner body so you can save your daughter. Relax, and go. We don’t have all night.’**

The echo stops, and he readjusts his grip on the hammer; kicks the door open, and thunks out into the night.

_{He remembers this:_

_Running. Running and chasing and flying across the ground. }_

He's slow now, and the lumbering run is almost too much for him to stand, but he must. After all, there’s nothing he can do to change it. 

**‘Victoriano Mansion,’** the echo returns, and he slowly makes his way towards the manor house in the distance. 

He knows this house.

He doesn't know this house.

_{He remembers this:_

_His head hurts. }_

His free hand clenches and unclenches, wanting nothing more than to reach up and rub his temples, but he has none to speak of now.

The cool metal of the box helps, but it's not enough to ease the ache.

Pushing through the gate, the house looms above him. It’s a simple two-stories, but imposing all the same.

He can't help but wonder why his daughter chose this building to hide in.

He can’t help but wonder why it looks so damn familiar.

He doesn't have time to wonder any longer when the front door is flung open. One of the Haunted comes trotting down the stairs, an axe in one hand. 

**‘Kill him’** the voice says, and he obeys.

The hammer strikes the Haunted twice before the axe can touch him, and he sends the Haunted tumbling to the ground. 

He places one boot on his chest-

_{He remembers this:_

_“-and she'll be how old this year? They sure grow up fast, huh?”}_

-and slams the hammer into the Haunted’s face. It disintegrates into gore and chunks of bone, leaving him filled with deep regret as the corpse begins to smoulder.

But the feeling doesn’t last, and he presses on. Up the stairs, through the door, and he freezes. Transfixed, he watches a ghost, the memory of his daughter, as she roams the foyer. She looks to the side, then dashes through a painting before he can reach her.

He roars, a sound like hammers on anvils, as he strikes the painting. He roars again when it doesn’t budge nor rip, and he menaces the emotionless faces with his hammer.

 **‘You need to find, and kill, the ones who have holds on your daughter,’** the echo reminds him, and he rattles in irritation. It’s getting easier for him to read the vocals of the body he’s in, and he knows it’s a rattle of annoyance.

 **‘But first you need a connection. Find something that she left behind, and track her with that. You'll know what to do,’** the echo continues, and now he rattles in understanding. Or something like that.

The words bounce in his brain as he tries both doors on the bottom floor, blocked of course, and he climbs the stairs. There’s an opened door within sight, and he rushes it, spoiling for a fight. 

A fight he doesn’t get. Instead there’s another ghost, a girl climbing onto a broken pedestal to hide something.

She flickers like a candle, before disappearing. A statue appears, and he can see a glint in the dark. There’s something there.

Reaching into the crook of it’s arm, he pulls out two things with careful hands- a letter and a necklace.

She doesn’t trust anyone here, and he’s glad for that. There is death in the manor, and he wills her to be safe. 

She _needs_ to be safe. 

The necklace he laces in between his fingers, taking the time to peel off one glove to keep it clean and safe underneath.

_{He remembers:_

_“Thank you Daddy! I love it!”}_

**‘That’ll work. Now...it looks like she’d come into contact with the Murderer- CB-212. Locate and kill him.’**

The rattle is annoyed again, as if to ask why his daughter was allowed to come into contact with a murderer, but the echo is gone.

The room holds nothing more for him, and just like that, he knows where to go.

he tromps down the stairs, then takes a left. The dining room, the door now opened, beacons. 

There is a Haunted here, but it does not draw the same regret in him that the other one had, and he kills it with a flourish. A second springs from a door, and he slams it into the ground, before grabbing it’s head.

There is a tripwire in the hall, and without a second though he sends the squirming Haunted into it. There is an explosion, and he reaches up, pulling the remains of the monster off of the safe face.

He can’t say that he feels remorseful this time.

The noise draws out two more of the Haunted, and they are disposed with as much ease and brutality as the prior three, leaving him to stand in front of a door, a mess of blood and bone behind him. 

It’s not the same as the other doors in the house, and he knows that behind it, he will find the one who’s corrupting his daughter.

He kicks it open with a flourish, and walks into the dimly lit room. There is nothing of interest inside of it for him, nothing but the purple vortex that calls for him.

There are words and pictures drawn on the wall, but he doesn’t care for those. Instead he moves right to the purple swirles, the vortex in the stone, and plunges his hand inside.

_{He watches._

_The man grabs for coins that fall as one the haunted does. He shoves them into his pocket, motions to the side. A girl walks out into view, a small pile in her hands. One is tucked into her skirt pocket, and the man snatches at her._

_She runs.}_

The barn is familiar, and he shakes his head in aggravation. He knows this, he does. But he can’t think of why.

With a rattle, an almost growl, he takes out his aggravation on the haunted that spawn around him. The hammer swings in gorey arches, and he almost loses himself in the sensations he feels as cartilage and bone are crushed.

Then there’s a sound, high pitched, a whine a grating noise.

_{He remembers:_

_A cut, a slice, a deep biting pain, a spike of fear, and a sudden limp.}_

The hammer clashes with the chainsaw, metal grinding against metal and he pushes the Sadist further and further back. He wants this man, monster dead. And for more reasons than just for scaring his daughter.

The Sadist pulls away, and before he can turn, the chainsaw bites into his arm. If he could, he’d howl, but instead settles for a clattering of chains and a banging of doors that echos through the area as he lumbers away from the blood-soaked weapon.

At least he still bleeds red.

The vision he has wavers, and it’s through pure luck that he hits the madman again, this time past the chainsaw guard.

The Sadist falls to his knees, and he winds up, uninjured arm with a death grip on the hammer.

The satisfaction and joy and pure exultation he feels, ramming the hammer peen through the man’s face, sending brain matter and gore splattering onto the barn door behind him.

The feelings only grow as he places one giant boot onto the dead monster’s shoulder, ripping the hammer away from what used to be a semblance of a face.

He kicks out and away, and the body slumps back as the safe atop his shoulders rattles.

Laughing. He was laughing and what he'd just done should have made him feel sick. 

Instead, he fells victorious, and the feeling doesn't leave until he finds himself back in the manor hall, another directive shining in his ‘vision’, blood still dripping to the floor.

 **‘Shall we continue?’** the echo in his head asks, sounding bored, and he nods.

There was still others to destroy, after all.


End file.
